


Come walk with me

by disappointionist



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Death, Depression, F/F, One instance of albeist language, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointionist/pseuds/disappointionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lydia decides to try her best to get back to her old life, the way it had been before the death of her best friend, things take a turn for the stranger. She knows that sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations, but not as clear as the figure of said best friend standing in her bedroom one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by a video made by the splendid mithborien. The video can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZFhpF9gnFM I hope this will make you feel at least half as excited and inspired as your work made me feel going into this project.
> 
> An enormous thank you goes out to my beyond amazing betas: Sas (tepidwaterdialogues) and MaryAnn (merah42) for taking this story on at different stages of completion. You run the world. For real.  
> A little smaller, but no less heartfelt, thanks to Issan for keeping me sane, and to the people of the teen wolf femslash writers network that I have had the honor to get to know over these past weeks.

> _Come walk with me, come walk with me;_   
>  _We were not once so few_   
>  _But Death has stolen our company_   
>  _As sunshine steals the dew -_   
>  _He took them one by one and we_   
>  _Are left the only two_
> 
> \- Emily Brontë

 

Lydia knew that the days were passing; she saw the sun rise in the morning, blaze through the day and set in the evening. She saw the sunny days and the rainy ones and the ones in between. And despite the fact that she saw all this, she didn't want to accept it. She felt reluctant about the passing of time, as if time really had stopped when Allison had died and this passing of days was just an anomaly. Something that couldn't possibly be real. It felt wrong that the world would just move on like this, when she couldn't.

The nights were the hardest. Lydia was aware that this was a cliché, but it was a cliché that applied to her. It was simply easier to fight the nightmares during the day.  
In the night, the darkness seemed thick and impenetrable outside her window, like a curtain that couldn't just be pushed to the side. And because of this the nights blended into one another, warped into something never ending, black and timeless. The feeling of darkness being permanent made sleep feel like an entirely impossible task. A mountain to be climbed while barefoot and underdressed.

 

Lydia's mother had tried her best, sharing her sleeping pills and urging her daughter to listen to ambient noise and soothing tapes of male and female voices speaking sense or no sense at all. Lydia tried anything to keep her from waking up with the same feeling every single night. Working out, meditating and sleeping with her lights on. But no matter how drugged she was, how hard she tried to follow every guide she could find to the point, she couldn't keep the nightmares at bay. Eventually she had lost count of how many nights had passed, and it still hurt every bit as much.

 

Over and over she woke up from the same pain. She couldn't feel her own screams, only heard herself crying out as she felt her best friend being ripped from her.

 

It didn’t go away, it didn't numb. The second and the twenty-third time hurt just as much as the very first. Every time she woke up it felt just the same as before. She imagined that it resembled how it felt to get a limb torn off by a wild animal – A blazing pain at first, followed by the sharp ache that just keeps going on and on. She hugged herself, curling into a fetal position, bracing her ribs against the pain. She tried to remember how to breathe, focusing on inhaling and exhaling without every breath hurting. As her breathing calmed she lay still, sobbing dryly.

Lydia had run out of real tears many nights ago. Then the ache faded very slowly. But with the pain it seemed like something else vanished; the last little traces of Allison that Lydia had kept close to her with it, leaving a hollow space the size of a sleeping bird behind.

 

Some nights she wished that the pain wouldn't leave, that it would just stick around, keep filling her chest. Because when the pain wasn't there, she felt the void. And being hollow somehow felt even worse than pain. This scared her, because how would she fill a hole left by something she hadn't invited to live in her in the first place. She hadn't expected Allison to take up so much space within her, and once she had, Lydia hadn't thought she would go away so quickly.

 

The first nights her mother had rushed in to hug her, stroke her back and whisper lies about how everything was alright. This couldn't last forever of course, Lydia knew this. And eventually, a month or so later, her mother had turned to stronger sleeping pills for herself. When she did, Lydia understood. Her screams at night only disturbed the sleep that her mother much needed for work.

 

The days with sunlight were better, Lydia could talk about mundane things or pick up a book that she used to read when she was younger. Those days sometimes made her put on lipstick or unbraid her hair and let it flow. And then there were the days, which had been most days in the beginning, when Lydia had walked around the house like a shell. She walked between bedroom, kitchen and hallway. Eating but not tasting, reading but not understanding, lying in bed but not sleeping.

 

She knew what was happening, didn't need someone to spell it out on a paper for her. Because any diagnosis in black and white wouldn't accurately tell anyone how she was feeling anyway. There was nothing that would be specific enough for her. She wasn't just any word on paper, any combination of med: her best friend had died. That was what was happening to her. And as far as she knew, and Lydia knew quite a few things, there wasn't any combination of medication that could fix that.

She had her mother, she had friends, she spoke to them when they called and when they came by her house. Perhaps this wasn't what a doctor would give her to feel better, but Lydia knew that it had helped her before. With her friends, she knew even during the days where she shut herself in entirely that she wasn't intending to give up. One day she would get better, one day she might sleep an hour longer before waking from that nightmare, and maybe the following week she'd sleep another two. It wasn't quite hope, but it was a piece of string to hold onto on the way to wherever it was she was going.

 

It hadn't been an epiphany, this realization. It came to her when she was spooning yoghurt into her mouth while watching _Gilmore Girls_ on Netflix for the second time. A day like any other in the rows of those that had passed. And after she had decided this was how she was going to deal, it kept on being an ordinary day as well. Her mother came home from work, they cooked dinner together and then they watched TV as her mother wound down. They watched a romantic comedy, but Lydia didn't enjoy it as much as she had thought when she read the reviews. She didn't like it when the love felt plastered on, and this had been one of those loves.

 

When things changed a few days later, Lydia wondered if it had been because of this decision. Like her brain somehow registered that she had settled, and therefore decided to change things up to keep her unsettled.

 

Again she had woken up in a panicked frenzy, clutching her blankets for security. Slowly, she repeated the mantra she had told herself every night. _It's alright, it's over, it's not happening again._ Then she rolled to her side and let her breath roll in and out of her like the tide. That's when she saw her.

 

Standing at the side of her bed, was Allison, so real and in focus even in the dusky light of the room. Lydia was more shocked by the vividness of Allison's form rather than by it being there. She could see every little detail of Allison's face and clothing, down to the slightly worn sleeves of her jacket. Lydia instinctively held her breath, almost as if she was afraid to startle the other girl.

 

Her vision blurred, and she reached up and wiped a few tears off of her cheek. She looked at them in surprise. It was just a dream, Lydia thought. That's why she was crying. She cried because in the dream she hadn't run out of tears yet. She cried because she knew that she would have to wake up in a minute, and Allison wouldn't be standing by her bed and she would feel just as hollowed out as she always did.

 

But she didn't. When she woke up there was daylight outside. No aching in her bones, no scream ripped from her chest. She heaved herself up against the headboard and sat there, deciphering for a long while what this meant and how it affected her.

 


	2. Part I

Lydia had never been very good at standing still, at not doing anything, not keeping extra curricular activities. As it was, she found it hard to focus on the books she started before Allison died. And although her mother frowned at her when she came into the kitchen the morning after the dream about Allison, she insisted she was ready to go back to school. 

 

She had arrived at the conclusion that perhaps she needed to distract herself. It was hard to do that in the house and she reasoned that at school she would at least be around friends. Most of her classes were easy for her as well. She had managed to keep up with them okay from home, so she didn't see how she couldn't also do that in school.

 

And besides, if she occupied herself with school and friends perhaps she would exhaust herself enough to get some proper sleep when the day was over. Perhaps this dream of Allison in her room hadn't been a bad thing, perhaps it had been the first step for that bettering that Lydia had decided to wait out. 

 

Judging from her first week, however, she had been wrong. There had been elements that she had written off as not mattering, but when she had to stare them in the face she realized that they did.

 

Everything in that damn school seemed to live, breathe and smell of memories of Allison. She caught the pitying looks from people she didn't know from the corner of her eye. During her first week back these seemed to outweigh the good things that had brought her there in the first place. Like the way Scott hugged Kira close to his side; when Stiles looked shocked and happy to see her every single time they met, even when she was sitting in the desk next to his in class; or when Malia met her eye going down the corridor and smiled whenever she passed her locker. 

 

She had managed through to Friday of that first week, one blessed day until it was the weekend. A weekend when she wouldn't have to live down the stares of people in the hallway. And after the weekend she would be in week two, and after that week three. Eventually, she knew, it would all calm down. The stares would vanish, people might even forget. Lydia knew all this because she had lived it down once before, having been found in the woods, naked and scared after... No, she wasn't going to think about that. 

She slammed her locker door shut, making Kira jump beside her. She had completely forgotten that the other girl had been there.

“Sorry.” She said, smiling apologetically. “It slipped.”   
“It's fine.” Kira said, shrugging and giving her an easy smile. Lydia liked spending time with Kira these days, she was the one who best made Lydia believe that nothing really was a big deal. 

“I'm heading for Physics.” Lydia told her, clutching her book close to her chest.“You want to join me on your way to...” She read the scribble on the front of Kira's notebook. “History?” 

“Yeah.” Kira smiled, slipping into a well-practiced pace next to Lydia as they walked down the hall. “So are you coming to the warmup for the lacrosse season? It'll be Friday in two weeks.” She asked. 

“Well, I don't have a boyfriend on the team anymore...” Lydia said, off-handedly. 

“Me and Malia are both going. We can have pretzels and watch Malia shout at people?” Kira suggested, glancing at Lydia out of the corner of her eye. Lydia couldn't help but smile. 

“When you put it that way,” she said, looking at the other girl. “That sounds like a pretty perfect evening to me.” 

“I'm glad you agree.” Kira said. “I could also use some help making sure Malia doesn't get kicked out for shouting threats at the other team.” 

“So that's what you wanted me there for?” Lydia teased. She could tell that Kira tensed up a little, taking her a little too seriously. So she tried a laugh, and that didn't feel half as strained as she thought it would. She reached out and touched the other girl's arm. “I'd love to make sure we don't get maimed by angry fans or lacrosse players on the other team,” she said. 

“They won't even know what's coming, either.” Kira agreed with a tiny hint of a grin as they came to a stop in front of the history classroom. “Three tiny girls putting up a fight.”   
“To be fair, Malia is not that tiny.” Lydia pointed out, but she matched Kira's facial expression. It felt good. Perhaps this week was at least not going to end in a disaster. “Though compared to a mob of angry people, I guess...” She shrugged, a little surprised that Kira reached for her arm and squeezed it briefly. 

“I'll see you after physics?” She asked. 

“Yeah.” Lydia nodded. She felt bad that she hadn't been around her friends for all this time. Felt bad for making her grief the most important to her instead of sharing it with her friends. One day she'd tell them that. One day soon. “Scott has practice right?” She asked the other girl, who nodded. Lydia smiled widely. “Meet me in the parking lot and I'll drive you home.” Kira's eyes lit up. 

“That's perfect. Now go so you won't be late for class.” She insisted. 

Lydia raised a hand in a wave, as the other girl walked into the classroom.

“See you later,” she said. 

 

Walking down the hall, she felt a little lighter. It felt as if it was easier to ignore the stares and the whispers now. Or as if she remembered how she used to do that. 

 

Lydia turned the next corner, hurrying her steps a bit to make it to class without Mr. Henderson pulling that sour face of disapproval that he always made when someone walked in late. And then, there she was.

 

Clear as day, Allison was standing a bit down the hallway, her eyes searching until they latched onto Lydia's. Lydia felt her books slip out of her hands. The other girl,  _Allison,_ she thought - Allison blinked in surprise. Lydia looked down in reflex as the books landed on the floor. They caused a series of loud slams which echoed between the corridor walls. When she quickly glanced up again, a crowd of freshmen passed right in front of where Allison was standing. 

 

”Allison!” Lydia called out, her heart skipping a beat with happiness. But when the group had passed, there was no one there. Her heart sank. 

 

Of course there was no one there. It was silly to begin with. But she had found it hard to ignore that happy spark in her chest. That wasn't even a possibility, what she had seen was just a girl with long brown hair. There were lots of those. . 

 

She bent down to pick up her books, and as she did, she felt like crying.

 

”Lydia,” someone said. For one split and naive second she found herself hoping that it was Allison after all. She looked up to find Scott there, the fingertips of his outstretched hand hovering a bit away from her shoulder. ”You okay?” He asked, softly, quietly. 

 

”Yeah.” She lied, grabbing her books and swiftly standing up. 

”I heard...” Scott trailed off as Lydia's face tensed up a little. She wanted to tell him he hadn't heard anything, but she couldn't do it. She just didn't want the others to think she was crazy again, couldn't bear with that for another day. Lying to Scott felt strange because she could feel that he was hurting too, but that didn't mean she wanted to speak to him about this. Especially not now. She hadn't slept much, but that didn't mean she wasn't okay. Just a little tired, that was all. 

 

“It's been tough. Coming back.” She knew this was one of the most truthful things she had said all week. She could tell from the look on Scott's face that hearing this hurt him, but she could also tell that saying it out loud had been a good thing. 

 

“I know. It's like...” He looked around. “It's like she's everywhere.” 

Lydia felt like crying again, and as if Scott could sense it, he gestured with one arm. He didn't just hug her, he wanted her to decide if she wanted to. Of course, this made Lydia want to cry even more. She gratefully stepped into Scott's arms and let her own small frame be enveloped by his. She kept her arms close to her, still clutching the books while she felt Scott's arms encircling her, sheltering her from everything. Lydia could feel her body shivering, her breath coming in small huffs. It felt like crying, but without the relief after, because no tears came. 

 

“Do you want to skip class?” Scott whispered, his voice a little muffled somewhere over her head. She nodded. Then she realized that he couldn't see and half-laughed, half-sobbed. 

“Yeah,” she managed. 

 

Scott led her outside, his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close to his chest. Lydia remembered the night Allison died. How Scott had been there, how he had half-carried her home while she had cried for Allison, while she cried for Scott helping her when he should be crying too.

They sat quietly on a bench facing the street. It wasn't a very calm place, but Lydia didn't want to sit by the lacrosse field right then. And Scott had understood, had kept his arm around her shoulders, protecting her from the stares and the students that passed them.

 

Neither of them had said anything for a long while.

 

“I don't see how you do it.” Lydia said, shaking her head.

“Lydia...” Scott frowned a little. He was trying to find the right words, she recognized that face. “My mom told me that we all handle grief differently. And for me, that is about enjoying the days as best as I can. Being happy when I see the chance, and being sad when I feel like it's overwhelming me.”

Lydia looked up at him.

“I've never seen you be sad.” She said.

 

“I had never seen you break down before. It doesn't mean that you don't do it.” Scott told her. Lydia leaned against his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

 

“We're all lucky to have had her, you know.” She wasn't sure she should be talking about Allison, but with Scott it at least felt like he understood.

“I know,” he said. “That's what I try to focus on. How good it was when we did.”

Lydia nodded. Slowly.

“You can always call me,” she said, turning her head a little to glance at him “If you ever need to talk about her.”

 

She watched Scott's face warm with a smile before he nodded.

“Yeah.” He squeezed her shoulder with his hand. Lydia let her head relax back again.

 

“I have practice in a bit. Do you want me to stay?” He asked her then, but she shook her head in reply.

“No. I'm driving Kira home. I'll be fine.” She nodded, moving away from him a little so that she could turn in her seat and look at him properly. “Maybe not now. But I will be.”

“Yeah, me too.” Scott told her. His smile weaker, but it was still a smile.

 

That afternoon, Lydia got home after her mother for once. She had spent some time with Kira, hovering by the other girl's front door, talking about things that felt light and easy: how Malia was doing, TV-shows they both watched, movies they thought the other person should watch.

Lydia had almost managed to forget seeing Allison in the corridor. It was as if it was just a trace from her dream a week back, rather than something that happened in broad daylight. 

That seemed a sensible explanation as any. It was also a lot nicer to think about than the possibility that she was going out of her mind. She was stressed out from being back in school and that, on top of all the memories that the school gave her, had caused her to see things. Lydia was certain it didn't help that she also knew she was a banshee, but knew very little of what that meant. Her mind playing tricks on her with possibilities didn't seem entirely unreasonable. 

 

She greeted her mother, told her, “ I'm just going to go upstairs and drop off my bag. I'll be down in a minute and help out.” She walked up the stairs after she had stepped out of her shoes. Dropping her backpack on the floor by her desk she didn't bother to unpack any books. That could be done later, after dinner. 

 

The room was slightly chilly and Lydia walked over to one of the windows and checked for a draft. Their house wasn't that old, but lately the windows had begun to act up a little. They'd have to insulate them better. Perhaps even look at the other windows in the house to see if it needed to be done on more of them. She thought it felt colder by the window, and turned around with a sigh. 

She stopped short at a sudden sensation, like a brush of skin against her neck, her hair fluttering away from her face.  _Except it's wasn't skin, just a gust of wind, just a cold draft,_ she thought as she tried not to shudder.

 

She knew this, but the sensation woke something else, a memory of touch. Was that why she had thought of skin?

 

It took her another moment to realize what touch it had reminded her of. Allison standing in this room, getting ready for something... What was it again? Prom? Their double-date? It didn't really matter; part of the memory had come back clear as day: the last thing Allison did before they left, brushing one of Lydia's long curls over her shoulder. What was it that she had said? Lydia frowned, trying to remember.

 

“You're going to be okay.” Allison's voice, but Lydia shook her head. That wasn't it. She hadn't known what would happen, none of them had. A gust of wind through her hair again, at the side of her face now. Lydia shook her entire body loose from the stiff halt she had come to, even as she started walking across the room she shuddered a little. _Damn cold_ she thought, grabbing a cardigan that lay draped over the foot of her bed. 

“Mom!” She called out as she headed out her bedroom door and back downstairs without turning around.

“Yes?” Her mother peeked out fromthe kitchen doorway. 

“We really need to get that window in my room fixed, it's very drafty.” Lydia said. 

“I thought we fixed that already?” Her mother frowned a little and Lydia shrugged. 

“It hasn't gotten much better,” she said, and her mother hummed disapprovingly.   
“I'll put it on the list then.” She shook her head. “Silly old houses.” She tutted, before smiling at Lydia. “Will you set the table for us?” 

 

Dinner was pleasant. Lydia felt like she managed to be less quiet. She told her mother about her day in vague terms, but about going to the lacrosse game with Kira and Malia in much greater detail. She knew it would make her mother happy, and she really wanted that. After these past weeks, it was well needed.

 

“I'm going to need to study some tonight.” She wore a hint of a smile as she loaded their dishes into the dishwasher. “So don't spoil _Project Runway_ for me until I'm caught up.” 

“But what if it gets really emotional?” Her mother said, dragging out the vowels of the word 'really'. 

Lydia let out a short giggle.

“You'll have to keep it to yourself until tomorrow.” She said, squeezing the older woman's arm. “I might come down for tea later if you're still up.” 

“If not I'll come by and say goodnight.” Her mother leaned down to kiss her forehead. Lydia smiled at her. And despite what had happened at school that day, Lydia felt like they were going to be alright. Maybe even sooner than she had initially thought. 

She finished up by tidying the kitchen. Her mother had moved out into the dining room again, where she was spreading out a bunch of papers.   
“Grading,” she said, a sigh to her tone as Lydia passed on her way upstairs. 

“Good luck.” She hummed, distractedly, as she was trying to decide if she should start with reading up on the physics she had missed, or prepare her notes from various subjects to share with Malia. She had agreed to help her out, and it would be easier if she at least looked at her own notes before she did that. 

 

When she stepped into her room the first thing she noticed was the fact that it didn't feel as cold as before. The second was that someone was standing by her window.

 

She wanted to cry out in surprise, but she didn't manage to make a sound. She heard the thud of the door shutting behind her. For a while she hoped she was just imagining things, that this was Malia or Kira, or even Scott that she had for a split second mistook for someone else. But as the figure by her window turned around, it was undeniable. 

 

”Allison.” She croaked, voice barely working. Like before, Allison met her eyes, and this time no crowd was there to interrupt. Lydia watched the other girl's face settle into one of deep concentration before she finally spoke. 

 

”Lydia.” Soft, as if Allison had been afraid that it wouldn't come out. 

”Oh god.” Lydia shook her head. She rested her hands against her chest, pressing them against her skin to keep from trying to reach out for the other girl. ”Are you..?” She started, but realizing she wasn't sure what she was asking. 

”I'm not really here.” Allison said. 

“Then...” Lydia rubbed a hand over her forehead. “God, am I dreaming again? Is that what this is? A long, bad dream? Am I hallucinating? Am I...” She looked down at her feet, interrupting herself. Her face scrunched up in frustration. Allison had moved closer, close enough to reach out for her. Lydia wasn't sure if she wanted that or not. She felt like it could make matters worse, both ways. 

 

“You're not crazy.” Allison said. 

 

“Then why am I seeing you everywhere, Allison?” Lydia said, much louder than she had intended. If she was indeed spiraling away from sense and reality, this was just another step in, not caring if her mother heard her yelling at her best friend who had been dead for months. 

“I think...” And Allison sounded so practical, like she was presenting Lydia with the last theory about weird happenings in Beacon Hills. “I think it might be because you're a banshee.” 

“I barely know what that is, but I'm pretty sure I am not liking it making me see things.” 

“You're not seeing things.” Allison said. Lydia noticed that she flashed a little smile, as if she had amused herself with the words. “Well you're seeing me. But I... I'm not really here next to you. Well I am. It's just hard to explain. It's like I'm in two places at once.” She softened her voice. “I came here for you, Lydia.”

“What are you talking about?” Lydia still couldn't rationalise the fact that she was indeed trying very hard to talk sense with a hallucination of some sort. 

 

“I came because I was hoping that you would see me. I came because I was hoping you'd be able to find me in the midst of the voices that haunt you.” 

“Haunt me.” Lydia echoed, softly. She wasn't sure what to make of this. If this was an hallucination it was a very well-mannered one, and if it was a dream it was a very long one. “So what you're saying to me is, basically, that you're a ghost?” She asked after a short pause. 

“I guess that's the best word.” Allison said, shrugging a little. “Even if it mostly makes me think of those white sheet-ghosts and that's not how I feel.” 

 

Lydia cocked her head to the side as she watched her friend, or this image of her friend - whatever it was.

”Can I touch you?” Lydia asked at last, after long consideration. For a moment Allison looked vexed, and then very sad. 

”I don't know.” She said, instead of the no that Lydia had expected. ”I haven't tried. It was surprising enough to find myself here, let alone that day in the corridor when you first saw me.” 

”You're scared it won't work.” Lydia was not sure how she knew this, but she did.

“Yes,” Allison said. “I guess I know I'm here. But I was kind of hoping that this could...” She trailed off. 

 

“Prove it.” Lydia nodded. And then she took a step closer. Even if this was a dream, even if she was just seeing things, she couldn't ignore the budding curiosity in her chest. She wanted to know, wanted to prove what this image of Allison was worried of knowing. So Lydia held her hand out, and after only hesitating a brief second, eyes darting up to meet her best friend's, she took Allison's hand in her own. 

 

It wasn't entirely like there being substance where Allison's hand appeared to be, and it definitely wasn't like touching flesh and blood; but it wasn't like thin air either, or like with ghosts in the movies, where her hand could run all the way through her best friend if she let it. Instead, what appeared to be Allison's skin felt a little like a humming magnetic field; as if in place of Allison's hand, only the pure energy remained. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around Allison's. 

 

”How's that?” Lydia whispered, surprised when she saw tears glittering on Allison's face. 

”Just right.” Allison whispered back. 

 

“I usually get it right the first time.” Lydia said. She tried to crack a smile to soften the reality of the tears on the other girl's face. It didn't feel like a hallucination, and it didn't feel like she would wake up at any moment. Everything felt too real, even the humming energy of Allison's hand in hers.   


She couldn't help it after that, she reached for Allison's other hand as well. She dared herself to take it and properly hold on to it. Hoping as hard as she could that her hand wouldn't go straight through Allison's at any second. Holding on, nothing happened. Her best friend stayed right where she was, her hands comfortingly secure in Lydia's now. She was smiling softly. 

“You always do.” She said, and it made Lydia feel warm, inside and out. She noticed that from up close, Allison looked very tired.

 

“What's going on?” She asked softly. 

“I have to go.” Allison said, and Lydia's heart sank a little. “I'll be back, but I think I need to get used to focusing my energy like this. It's tiring.” She sounded surprised at the last words.

“It's possibly because your energy is all you have to keep yourself together.” Lydia pointed out. 

Allison laughed a little.

“There's the Lydia I know.” Her hands slipped out of Lydia's. “I'll be back as soon as I can.” She said, and Lydia could see her fading. 

“Promise?” She asked urgently, but Allison either didn't hear or had been too far away to be able to answer. All Lydia got in reply was the whistle of the wind from outside her window. 


	3. Part II

Lydia had gone to bed that night worrying that sleep would be the breaking point. She would go to sleep, and then she would wake up in the real world. But nothing like that happened. She even managed to sleep through most of the night, only waking up in a cold sweat around six in the morning. She wasn't even sure if it was from the same nightmare she usually had, or from another, milder one, like the ones she used to get before Allison died. 

 

It was somewhat calming to wake up and realize that she hadn't been dreaming the night before, because then it must have happened for real. But knowing that it hadn't been a dream only left her two options: she was either hallucinating, or her best friend had really come back as a ghost. At first, Lydia chose to believe the second theory, mostly because the feeling of Allison as Lydia had touched her was surprisingly vivid in her mind. 

 

But as the days passed without Allison re-appearing, the less sure of herself Lydia became. She tried to bury herself in homework and making carefully mapped out notes and schematics for Malia, but none of it really felt like it was her primary focus. Every other minute she caught herself glancing around the room, looking for Allison.

 

It wasn't until early Monday morning that Allison appeared again.

 

“Shit!” Lydia cursed under her breath. She had woken up briefly, and just checked her phone to see how many hours of sleep she had left before her alarm rang. And then, Allison was sitting on the edge of her bed. 

“Sorry!” Allison apologized. “I'm trying to plan this better, but I'm not really sure how.” She said. 

 

Lydia tried to focus on her breathing, calming it and hopefully her skidding heartbeat with it.

“It's fine. You scared me, that's all.”

“I didn't mean to.” 

“Maybe it's the form?” Lydia mused, and when Allison quirked an eyebrow she smirked a little. “Well, you are a ghost, maybe you're made to scare people even if you don't want to?” She suggested. It made Allison giggle. Lydia had missed it, had missed Allison. Almost on instinct, she reached out for Allison's hand. Some part of her wanted to touch it just because she knew that she could, and some part of her wanted to be sure that it felt the same, that this was really happening.

 

“How long was I gone?” Allison asked. 

“About three days.” Lydia said, watching the frown on Allison's face. 

“There's no real sense of time for me anymore.” She explained. “I'm sorry.” 

“You couldn't help it.” 

“I still let you doubt me for days!” Allison interrupted her, annoyed. Then she added, in a much softer tone. ”I can imagine you already do that enough as it is.” 

“I guess.” Lydia said, flashing a small but sad smile. “I get it, though? We're both learning being new things now.” She said. 

Her hand buzzed with the energy as Allison squeezed it tightly.

“You should go back to sleep.” She said, glancing out the window. 

 

Lydia nodded.

“I guess I should.” She sighed a little. “I won't ask you if you'll be here tomorrow. I'll just assume that you will be here when you can.” 

“I promise.” Allison said. This made Lydia sure that the other girl had heard her the other night. 

 

Lydia couldn't remember, the morning after, which one of them had drifted off first. She just knew that even moments from sleep, she had still thought about Allison's hand in hers. 

 

Over the following couple of days, Lydia spent less of her time worrying about her friend and her sanity this time. Instead, she spent time with Stiles in the library, trying to make sense of the latest word from Deaton on unusual activities nearby. They weren't actually looking for anything in particular, but it felt good to Lydia to be able to be of use, to point at things in Latin or Greek, or at words she understood in texts that were foreign even to her. Even if they weren't researching a threat, it also felt good that for once maybe having one up at whatever would come at, or just approach, them next. 

 

It being the second time around made it easier and Lydia felt more prepared. She had an easier time focusing now that she understood that Allison couldn't quite come and go as she pleased. She didn't have to keep repeating anything to herself as she looked at old scanned documents with narrowed eyes, or compared her notes to Malia's or Kira's, or just nodded in reassurance to Scott from across the hall. She knew, even if she did other things and thought about other people, everything was alright, and Allison's spirit form would come back around. 

 

This ease, and the lightness she had felt after that Monday, also made her act on what had previously seemed impossible. When Malia had last come over to study, Lydia had offered her some of her clothes. But the reluctant expression on the other girl's face clearly told her that their styles differed in more ways than one. So on Wednesday, the day her and Malia were going to meet for the next study session, Lydia drove straight from school to the old apartment building.

When she had parked, she rested her hands on the steering wheel for a few moments. She thought of how this was necessary. Even if Allison's ghost had come around this should still be done. Chris had wanted her to. And Lydia found that in some way she wanted to honor that.

 

Before Allison's spirit had found her, the day when Chris had shown up at her house was one of the few times when Lydia had felt entirely alive.

 

She didn't need to talk to Chris, not in any deep and meaningful way. And in those days right after Allison's death, that had been precisely what she needed. She knew that Argent had felt the same way. Quietly they had found something that was better than every condolence and reassurance. He came over with books for her, not Allison's books, but the Argent family's books. She assumed he just didn't want them lying around in the apartment while he was gone.

 

Only when the last book had been put in its place on top of the pile next to the foot of Lydia's bed did Chris speak.

 

“I'm going to leave you the key.” He said. “If there's anything you need, feel free to get it. The alarm will recognize your thumb-print.” He said, glancing briefly at her. “I put some of Ally's clothes in a box that's right by the door. I wasn't... I thought maybe you might want them... or maybe you could give them to Malia.” He said. 

 

Lydia nodded again. She wanted to smile, but her muscles didn't seem to remember how. She gulped and tried to say thanks. But as she tried, she could tell that Chris was trying the same thing. So instead they nodded to each other again, and Lydia shook his hand instead. Politely and completely out of tune with how the rest of the situation felt. 

 

It was only after he left Lydia realized that the handshake had been more than that. It had been a deal. You keep yourself safe, and I will too. For some reason that didn't leave her feeling pressured, instead it made her chest felt a little less tight and crowded than before. 

 

She took the stairs to the apartment, because she didn't want to deal with the silent hum of an elevator while having second thoughts on this decision. It was like going back to school had been, only concentrated over even smaller spaces. 

 

Her hands shook a little as she picked up the key and tried to get it to fit in the lock. She had to think about something other than Allison. She thought of how she was doing this, not for Allison or herself. She was doing this for someone else, for Malia. Allison's style seemed to have been a lot closer to what Malia liked to wear when she picked clothes herself. And Lydia wanted Malia to feel comfortable, to feel like one of them even if she was their newest addition. And with that, she got the key to slide into the lock and turned it. The door clicked open and she stepped into the darkness of the apartment, to the tune of the quick warning beeps of the alarm. She hastily found the little blue lit screen next to the door. She pressed her thumb to it, praying that Argent had really made sure the software would recognize her thumbprint. 

 

The beeping stopped and Lydia turned on the light next to the alarm panel. 

 

It wasn't as bad as she had feared, seeing the place again. Perhaps it was seeing Allison first, as a ghost that somehow made the place feel less haunted. And even, a little bit less empty; as if something still belonged in here. Despite this, Lydia only walked a short round in the flat, mostly to make sure it was all there and untouched. But she barely even looked at the door to Allison's room; she didn't see why she would even try to do that to herself. 

 

She turned off the lights in the adjacent rooms and walked back to the hallway, picking up the unlabeled box by the door and turning the alarm back on with a few clicks. It was silly to think so, of course, but as she left Lydia felt as if she had just won a great battle.

 

She fell asleep early that night, exhausted after going through the basics of the equations with Malia. Again. Every time she thought she had simplified it enough, it turned out that she hadn't. In this case, Lydia really wished that she had been born with a mind that didn't just know how to explain math at full speed ahead. That's not how it worked with most of the world, and that wasn't how she needed to use it when tutoring. She was trying to explain it better than the teachers, not make it worse. Eventual ly she had brought out a big piece of paper and several different pens, and she had written down the different parts of solving in different corners of the papers. Drawing arrows and circles all over. At first, when she watched Malia study the paper she wasn't sure that she had gotten it this time either. But then the other girl smiled, and Lydia breathed a sigh of relief. After, she had handed Malia some of the clothes that she had unpacked from the box. When she was told they were Allison's, Malia had nodded and bit her lip. And she took them from Lydia's hands like they were treasure. That made Lydia think that perhaps they were, too. 

 

It seemed like a growing habit, the appearing in the middle of the night. The next time Allison's ghost showed up in her bedroom, Lydia had almost fallen asleep when the now familiar buzz of Allison's hand came to rest upon hers on the covers. 

 

“Hey.” Allison whispered. “You awake?” 

“Well, now I am.” Lydia grumbled unhelpfully. 

“I'm sorry.” Allison said. “Again.” She added, and pulled a not-quite-so-sorrowful face. “I just feel like I can't just watch you sleep when I'm here.” 

“Leave that to Twilight, yes please.” Lydia said, voice still muffled into her pillow and Allison stifled a giggle. 

“I will.” She smiled. “I guess I just wanted to say that I was here.” She let go of Lydia's hand and stood up. She walked slowly across the room, over to the window where she had stood when she first appeared here to Lydia. 

  
Her movements made Lydia heave herself up by her arms. She wasn't exactly up, but she would like to be for this. For Allison. Having a best friend that was a ghost wasn't very practical in that way. If Lydia at all wanted to talk to her, this was the chance she got.

 

“Where is it that you go?” Lydia asked, eyes still a little narrow with drowsiness. She had been thinking about this for a while now. It wasn't the best starter question, but perhaps she couldn't question her still half sleeping mind on priorities.

 

“I don't...” Allison shook her head. “I'm not sure I can explain it.” She said. 

“Try me?” Lydia shoved herself up a bit further against the headboard. 

“It's like there is nothing, but I'm still aware of myself... of this. It's weird. Almost artificial? And there's no real concept of time, it just doesn't...” She trailed off, frowning and reached for a frame standing on Lydia's windowsill. “It's just like it's not permanent.” She said. 

 

“Since you're here, that's probably a correct observation.” Lydia replied, watching as Allison set down the picture again. It was the one of them laughing at a picnic they had about a year before, Lydia loved that picture. They looked so happy, so untroubled. “What's it like?” She asked.

“Where I am it's mostly like a large forest. But not like outdoors. Not like a real forest.Like it's in a room but a room that just never ends. It's always misty and the trees never change, and despite of that... it's breathtaking.” Allison had fixed her gaze on something outside Lydia's window now. Maybe a streetlight, or maybe an animal of some kind hovering in someone's yard. 

 

“A forest?” Lydia asked. Her friend nodded. 

“Yeah. Weird, huh? I'm wondering if it's different for everyone, this middle stage. It would make sense in a way, I guess? We'd all be there for different reasons after all.” 

“It doesn't feel entirely unlikely.” Lydia offered vaguely, and was surprised when Allison laughed at this. 

 

“Sorry. You just sound like you're doing an official interview for a network and 'you do not wish to confirm nor deny anything' sometimes.” She said. “It's kind of cute. I always imagine you wearing a formal suit or a lab coat when you do.” 

“You imagine me in a lab coat from time to time?” Lydia quirked an eyebrow. 

“I guess?” Allison mimicked her face and Lydia rolled her eyes a little. But she was still smiling, couldn't help it. She glanced at her phone on her bedside table. 

 

“You really need to stop coming here so late.” She told Allison, who sighed. 

“It's exceptionally bad timing each and every time.” She said. 

“It is.” Lydia said. “Maybe you're nocturnal too? Being a ghost and all?” She suggested. Allison laughed, a slightly bitter tone to it. 

“Being a ghost is starting to sound more and more impractical. If I'm both bound to scare you and only appear at night-time.” Something in her face looked so sad. 

 

“Before you go.” Lydia added as an afterthought, getting out of bed and walking over to Allison. The taller girl looked down at her quizzically. Lydia smiled. “Goodnight, Allison.” She said, reaching up and pulling the other girl into a hug. It felt odd, to have the energy of her ghost-best-friend pressed against her. But it also felt good. Like safety and comfort and home and something that Lydia had been missing for a long time now. It pinched at the inside of her chest as Allison hugged her back tightly. 

“Goodnight, Lydia.” She said. 

 

When they let go, Lydia felt tingly, as if she had been magnetized by the prolonged touch. She rested back on the balls of her feet, not having noticed that she had stood on her toes during the hug. For a second she swung her arms a little back and forth, and then she turned around and walked back over to her bed.

 

With every step, the tingling of her limbs settled into something warmer, something more familiar. She couldn't quite place it, but it felt less like the energy Allison had, and more like something Lydia herself knew from before.

 

“Allison!” She said suddenly, turning around. She wasn't entirely sure why she had called out for her, perhaps she had thought the other girl had already left. She hadn't, it turned out. And as Lydia turned, so did Allison from the window. She smiled in that very familiar way of hers. 

“Yeah?” She said, and Lydia noticed a twitch of an eyebrow, nearly a quirk. 

 

“I...” Lydia sighed. “I don't know.” She said, shoulders slumping slightly. She was going to tell her friend to nevermind or something of the like, but Allison had already started walking toward her. Soon her hands were resting on Lydia's arms, their eyes meeting. Lydia felt something within her slowly tick away like a tiny clock. Step by step, closer to making sense of what she was feeling. 

 

“Hey.” Allison said softly. “It's okay. I feel like I know.” 

“What do you mean?” Lydia asked in a quiet tone. 

“You learn a thing or two by dying.” Allison said. “But mostly it seems like the very threshold of revelation.” 

“Sorry?” Lydia blinked. 

“I love you, Lydia.” Allison said, leaning down and resting her forehead against Lydia's. 

“I love you, too.” Lydia replied quietly, closing her eyes and taking it all in. No warm breath came from Allison's lips, still the closeness of her made Lydia's face feel hot and blushing. 

 

“I know.” Allison told her, pressing her lips to Lydia's forehead. “Now I do.” She said, voice trembling a little. Lydia looked up again, frowning a little, was that nerves? Did ghosts even get those?

 

Allison's fingers grazed her chin, tilting it up a little more. And then, Allison's lips, or some kind of sensation of them, pressed against Lydia's. It was short and rather chaste, but there was no doubting the intent behind it. Lydia found comfort in her best friend's eyes, feeling surprisingly calm as the other girl awaited her reaction. She felt as if her body was humming. The clock had stopped, and she thought that she might understand. Lydia smiled then, and lifted her hand to cup Allison's cheek.

 

“Just right,” she said. 

Allison laughed, sounding so alive that it felt like a sharp object lodging into Lydia's ribs. She ignored it and pulled Allison down and closer. “Now let me get it right too.” 

 

If she closed her eyes, it was like kissing with some of her senses disconnected. But even without the taste and warmth her mouth against Allison's felt buzzing and intoxicating. When she opened her eyes she could barely tell the difference anymore. Allison's hand against her waist, her brown curls tickling Lydia's face. Lydia wrapped her arms tightly around Allison's neck and stood on her toes despite Allison's attempts to push her shoulders gently to get her back to ground level. She held on, pulled every inch of Allison closer until that half-steady, half-buzzing feeling was so near that it felt like it had engulfed her entirely.

 

“Lydia.” Allison's voice soft and a little bit raspy, her lashes shadowing her eyes. 

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not important enough to interrupt this.” Lydia said gently, if not a little annoyed.

“I shouldn't have.” Allison said and Lydia sighed. 

 

“Ally.” She tutted lightly. “I don't know about you, but I think right now might be the last time for should have's, and this is definitely one that I wouldn't have undone.” 

She felt that strange sensation of wind and touch all at once as Allison brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. A little gust of affection. 

 

“You're right.” Allison said. 

“I know.” Lydia said. “Let's reschedule the worry for tomorrow.” 

“You've worried enough for a lifetime.” Allison said, and Lydia nodded. 

“Let's reschedule for a lifetime, then.” She corrected, smiling as Allison leaned down to kiss her again. Short and sweet this time around. A proud kiss, Lydia thought. 

 

“Can you stay the night?” Lydia asked her, pulling back and motioning for the bed. Allison shrugged a little, but it wasn't enough to hide the shy little smile she pulled. 

“I think so.” She said. 

 

“Don't look so coy.” Lydia teased. “You've been in my bed before.” She reminded her. 

“To be fair I hadn't just made out with you and I was... I wasn't a ghost.” Allison mimicked her tone with a grin. 

“I think I'm of the impression that neither of those are particularly bad things.” Lydia said as she let go of Allison entirely and climbed back into bed. She patted the covers next to her. 

 

“Come on, Ally.” She cooed, pouting just a little. Allison rolled her eyes, but she walked over to the bed anyway. She lay down on top of the covers but Lydia frowned. 

“I don't care that you're a ghost and don't get cold. It feels ridiculous to have you lie like that.” She said, shuffling around and pulling at the covers. “Get under here.” She commanded, which made Allison laugh as she did what she was told, moving in between the covers so that she was right next to Lydia. 

 

“You're being very demanding and we've only kissed once.” 

Lydia ignored her.  S cooting a little closer,  s he wrapped her right arm across Allison's chest, and then her leg over the other girl's leg. Resting her head against Allison's shoulder she sighed, closing her eyes. 

“You can insult me in the morning instead.” She said. 

 

Allison laughed again, and pressed her lips to the top of Lydia's head. 

“Yeah okay. I'll be here.” 

 

B ut the silence that followed made Lydia stiffen where she lay. Her hands suddenly felt very cold. 

“You'll be here.” She said, trying to sound sure although she suddenly wasn't. She tried to promise it to herself, despite it not being her promise to make.

 

“Lydia.” Allison's voice adopted a tone that Lydia didn't quite want to hear. She tried to brace herself. Of course this couldn't be permanent. None of it had been according to the expected order of things anyway. But still, something in her had wanted this to be just another fact she would have to accept. Like that there were werewolves and hunters of them. There were monsters and kitsune and they were just like any other people. Like Lydia herself. And they all had people chasing after them with claws and weapons ready every other week. She had wanted there to just be ghosts as well, that those too could exist as much as she did. 

 

On top of that she hadn't wanted to think about what would happen when Allison left. Would the voices in her head become louder? Too loud? Would she have other spirits haunting her? She shuddered a little, and felt Allison shift, draping her arm over Lydia's body. The redhead sighed, burying her face in the hollow formed by Allison's neck.

 

“What if you're here because you're not meant to go.” Lydia said after a while. Her voice was very quiet. 

“Lydia. It's...” Allison sighed, kissing Lydia's forehead. “When it's over, it's over.” She said. “I'm sure I'll go eventually.” 

 

And Lydia let herself be wrapped in the strange but comfortable feeling of Allison's energy. But on the inside she thought, _no_. Inside, a spark had been lit, and she could feel it catching quick as wildfire, spreading through her. She lay there, enjoying the warmth of her best friend and the burn of the familiarity in her own determination. It wasn't over, she was sure of it.


	4. Part III

It would have been hard to know where to look for the information she needed if Chris hadn't given her most of the Argent library when he left for France with Isaac, the same day he had given her the key to the apartment. He had come around the house with boxes full of them, and in mutual silence the two of them had loaded as many of them as possible into Lydia's bookshelves. All of them didn't fit, and they had ended up just stacking the rest of them on the floor. At the time she hadn't thought of them as a resource needed any time soon. Perhaps she had even mostly intended for her to keep them safe until the day that Argent decided to come back. But now, she was thankful that she had kept them in her room. And even if she didn't find exactly what she wanted here, perhaps she could find something that would help her on her way. 

 

For the past few days, Allison had stayed with Lydia through the night, or for as long as she could, at least. Sometimes they kissed, sometimes they just talked about Lydia's day or about her plans for the week. Lydia steered the conversation away when Allison seemed to want to take the conversation to other places. Like how they had ended up like this and why. Lydia sharply reminded her that they had rescheduled that conversation.

 

It was a Sunday, and Allison hadn't been around when Lydia woke up. She still had trouble focusing on one place. In this case, Lydia had decided this was a good thing, and let it be a sign for her to get to work. It also left her time to think of what she should tell the other girl. That was another point on the list of downsides of a ghost haunting you. It was very hard to sneak around with things, research included.

 

Lydia spent her day engulfed in the Argent family books. She remembered to eat mostly because her mother brought in a bowl of soup at some stage. Lydia was a bit too caught up in her reading to notice much, but she did notice that her mother had a half smile on her face at the sight of her. A kind of smile that Lydia hadn't seen on her face for a long time now. She filed it away for later, to bring out and examine it to determine what it meant.

 

When Allison did eventually re-appear in her room, Lydia had perched herself on her armchair, surrounded by more than a dozen books on every surface available within arm's reach. As well as the books, the chair and the walls had an armada of brightly colored post-its.

 

“Hey! It's still daylight outside!” Lydia observed with a smile. 

“I guess I'm rebelling against my own nature now.” Allison flashed a crooked grin. “Did Stiles visit?” Allison asked, gesturing around the room.

 

“I started with an organized excel sheet at first, but my laptop ran out of battery and I couldn't reach the power chord.” She said, nodding to the chord where it was rolled up by her bedside table. 

“Did you try walking over to it?” Allison teased. Lydia rolled her eyes before looking back at the book. But she couldn't fight the smile that spread over her face. 

 

She knew that Allison was moving closer, despite the other girl not making a sound. Something about her presence in this ghostly form could be felt as a shift in the air when she was nearby.

 

“So are you going to tell me what you're doing?” Allison said after a long moment of silence, during which Lydia had kept reading the page of the book she was currently holding. Allison had just stared at the same it, even though she didn't know a single word of Latin and therefore not understanding any of it. Unless, Lydia reasoned, language doesn't matter anymore when you're dead. 

 

“My homework.” She said, pointing to one of the closest books, open to a page beautifully illustrated with a battlefield and a woman in the foreground. A screaming woman. 

 

“Banshees.” Allison said. 

“I want to know what there is to know.” Lydia told her simply. She almost expected a row of follow-up questions, but none came. Instead, she was pushed to the side as Allison squeezed herself onto the arm of the chair. 

 

“Let me help out.” She said, reaching for a book. Lydia looked at her and smiled. 

“That one is in Latin.” 

 

Allison quickly dropped the book. 

“Any in a language that isn't dead?” She quirked an eyebrow and Lydia hit her gently on the arm. 

“Yeah. First pile on the right.” 

 

Allison reached for the top book in the assigned pile instead, flipping it open to a random page. 

They stayed that way, Allison stretching her legs over Lydia's, sliding down in the seat as the hours passed, ending up with her back to the armrest instead. Lydia leaned over occasionally to look at something Allison had found, but mostly they kept to themselves. Close, but each focused on their own reading. Allison stuck post-it notes on every other page while Lydia had a more focused style of noting, sometimes scribbling away quite a while after finishing a chapter or a section. Lydia's mother knocked on the door once to ask if she wanted tea or a bite to eat but other than that their studies remained undisturbed.

 

“I think that's about it on the basic facts.” Allison said once the room had grown dark, and Lydia's eyes were straining a bit to see the words on the page of the book she was still reading. 

“I'm not quite done. I think I have the most of it but I'm still missing a few pieces of vital information.” Lydia said, trying to will her tired frown away. 

 

“Are you looking for something specific?” Allison asked her. Lydia hesitated for a moment, but looked up at Allison. She rubbed her fingers against her forehead, relaxing the skin there. 

“To undo death.” 

 

Allison stood up  quickly, the book that had rested in her lap f alling on the floor with a loud bang. 

“Lydia?” Her mother called from downstairs.   
“I'm fine mom! Just dropped a book!” Lydia called back, while eyeing Allison carefully. 

 

“You're not doing what I think you're doing.” Allison said in a low voice. 

“If what you think is me trying to bring you back, then I am.” She said, confident that she had most of the information she needed, and that she knew how to fill in the rest. She could do this, had prepared for this, she was ready for this conversation. 

 

“I never asked you to do that.” Allison shook her head, backing up a little and stepping carefully over the books on the floor. 

“I know.” Lydia said. “But it's... I needed to know if I could.” She shut the book she had been reading, but didn't get up. She looked steadily at Allison. “I want to do this.” 

 

“Lydia, you can't just undo death like that... That's not how it works!” Allison's voice was a little too high, a little too sharp. She was gesturing with her hands kept close to her chest. 

 

”You died once before.” Lydia said, watching Allison's face as it set in a concerned frown.

”It wasn't technically death, Lydia... It was just for a little while.” She shook her head, but Lydia held a hand up in protest. 

 

”I can get you back. I'm sure of it. I can pull you up.” She said, turning around a book on the table. ”It's not unheard of. And I have an advantage.” 

 

”Lydia you're an untrained banshee. _H_ _ow_ is that an advantage?” Allison cried out, but Lydia just shook her head, red curls bouncing over her shoulders. 

 

”I already know where you are, I already know that I can reach you and talk to you.” She said. ”I'll just need you to keep talking to me when I'm there.” 

”When you are where, exactly?” Allison sounded skeptical, but her expression was softening around the edges. 

”Where you are. In limbo, I guess you could say.” 

“Limbo.” Allison repeated. She shook her head but didn't sound upset. “Lydia this is...” She sighed. Lydia reached for her hand. 

 

“I need to try.” She said. “You know I can't not try.” She looked at the other girl, Allison's shoulders slumping just a little as she drew in a long breath. 

 

She exhaled. 

”So you would have to die to get there? Lydia I'm not letting you...”

”I don't need to die to do it.” Lydia said quickly, interrupting her. She watched Allison narrow her eyes. ”Not exactly, at least.” 

“And would you care to define'not exactly' dying to me, Lydia?” She had crossed her arms in front of her now and Lydia wanted to unfold them. 

 

“You know how in Romeo and Juliet there is a potion that makes Juliet only appear dead?” She said. When Allison gave no response other than blinking at her she, continued. “It's a bit like that. Except I don't need to trick my parents that I'm dead. I need to trick the natural way of things.” She said, shoving the book on the table toward Allison, pointing at the page. “I've found several accounts of it being done, this one is the most detailed.” 

 

“Because of me being a banshee, my connection to the... dead is stronger than with any human being. So that on top with slowing my body's processes will cause me to seem dead, while in fact, I'm not.” 

“I don't like the sound of this.” Allison said, but she leaned down to look at the text Lydia was pointing to. 

 

“Physically it's just what you, Scott and Stiles did. But technically, it should be both easier and less dangerous for me.” Lydia said. 

Allison shook her head. 

“I don't think you have enough control over your powers for this.”

“That's where you being here comes in, though.” Lydia said. “You're the advantage I need.” 

 

“Even if that were, you'd need help. And where would you get the supplies? It's not like we have friars walking around in Beacon Hills.”

 

“No friars.” Lydia agreed with a nod. She glanced back at the book between them and then back up at Allison. “But druids.” 

 

“There's no way Deaton is going to agree.” Allison said. But she didn't sound convinced. In honesty, Lydia knew that she herself wasn't entirely sure that Deaton would agree. She wasn't sure that he would want to essentially repeat what he had helped Scott, Allison and Stiles with. If he didn't, it wouldn't matter that she was a banshee. 

After the time they had spent together and after all the times he had helped them out, Lydia still didn't actually know a lot about Deaton. A long while ago he had offered to help her, to guide her with whatever he could about her being a banshee. But right then she had been too distracted by other things to take him up on it. She only hoped that it wouldn't be to o late to ask for his advice. He was her best  hope after all, the only one dealing with things of this nature that she felt like she could trust. 

She didn't dare, not yet at least, to tell the others about Allison,  a bout seeing her. After everything, she was still worried they'd pat her on the shoulder and secretly believe that she had gone crazy after all. 

 

“Ally...” She said gently, putting the book aside now and standing up amongst the rest of the books and notes. “The books all say... and you've read this too now, that spirits don't haunt banshees without cause. They all have something they need or want. I think you were brought back here for a reason.”

 

“That reason being to let you risk your life to bring back mine?” 

“The reason being that you shouldn't have died at all. The reason being that you should be alive.” Lydia said calmly. She had thought this through, formed it in her mind during the day and worked on how to best tell Allison. She needed her to understand.

 

She needed her.

 

“If Deaton says you can't, that means you can't. Okay?” Allison said at last. Lydia rushed over and wrapped her arms tight around Allison. The other girl stumbled a little against her.

 

“Okay.” Lydia said, words muffled against Allison's shoulder. “Okay.” She repeated to herself. 


	5. Part IV

“I've never met anyone who has done it, no.” Deaton said. 

 

Lydia had sat down on a chair opposite his desk in the veterinary clinic. It all felt very formal and she felt like scratching her skin, as if the feeling was itching  her.

“But you've read the same texts that I have.” She said. He nodded. 

“Some of them at least, and a few more that you haven't as well I'm sure.” He told her, resting his hands on his desk. “It will be highly dangerous.”

 

“That was pretty hard to miss, yes.” Lydia said

“But it's not impossible,” he said after another beat. “You're going to need help, though. Have you told Scott about this?”

 

Lydia shook her head and shifted in her chair. 

“Well you need to tell someone.” 

“I've just told you.” Lydia protested, but Deaton cut her off.

 

“Someone other than me. I can help you if you wish to go through with it after all, but I can't do all of it. You need someone you know. In case something goes wrong, you need someone who knows what happened. Someone who won't be there.” He said. 

 

Lydia pondered that for a moment. Then she nodded. 

“I'll do it.” She said. “Whatever I need to.” She swallowed hard. 

 

Deaton looked at the slip of paper with ingredients she had listed for him. 

“It will take me a little while to get these.” He said. “But they're not entirely uncommon. It's mostly the combination that makes it, I think.” He rose from his chair, and Lydia mirrored him. 

 

“Thank you.” She said, starting to turn around but stopping herself. “When this is all done, I'd love to learn more about this. About everything that you could tell me. Not just about being a banshee.” Then, adding quickly. “You don't have to feel like you have to make time for me or anything. Maybe I could just come by while you work once in a while. Like Scott does with the animals.”

 

“That sounds like a good deal.” Deaton said as Lydia turned around again. 

 

“Is she here right now?” He asked when her hand was on the door. 

“Allison?” Lydia asked, although she knew that was the case. “No. It's easier for her to keep her focus in one place. To not move around too much.”

 

“Maybe after this is done, you can teach me some things about the matters that I don't know about, too.” Deaton told her. 

“I doubt that's very much.” She told him truthfully, then she flashed him a wide smile as she walked out the door. 

 

Lydia spent the next few days reading and re-reading the books she had found. She googled and asked Allison every possible question she could about the limbo in which she spent a lot of her time. After a couple of days however, Allison had just groaned at her never-ending row of questions, having repeated every answer several times. It became clear that there was nothing more that they could do. Just waiting remained. And true to his promise, it had only taken Deaton a couple of additional days to gather the things they needed. Which meant that Lydia had to execute her part of the bargain, the one she had been pushing ahead of her with great force. Deciding who to tell, possibly risking the entire plan, possibly risking her one chance at getting Allison back.

 

“Well my mom's out for sure.” She said to Allison. The other girl was pacing the room, while Lydia herself had crashed on her back on top of the bed. “Your dad too. He'd only tell me not to do it. Possibly rush here to make sure I didn't as well.” She mused. 

 

“Stiles?” Allison suggested but Lydia made a small noise of disapproval.   
“Not sure he could keep it from the rest of them.” She said. The other girl grunted indifferently, but kept pacing. “I think Kira might be a little too worried about me to keep still while I was under... and Scott...” 

 

“Yeah. He'll never go with it.” Allison said, shaking her head. “But still, he's the alpha. He'll want to know this before it happens.” She pointed out. Lydia groaned and tried to sink as far down into the mattress as she could. “How about Malia?” Allison said then. Lydia hummed before she sat up. 

 

“I was going to say I have no clue of how that was going to work out... but the more I think about it...” She said. “I've agreed to meet up with her once a week and help her with homework anyway. I'm going to call her and see if she can make it.” 

 

“Now?” Allison asked sharply. 

“Yes now.” Lydia clarified. Allison looked at her, but she couldn't make out what the look meant. It was a fine blend of surprise, disapproval and amusement. 

“We're really doing this.” 

“Yep.” Lydia said, having already picked up her phone to dial Malia's number. “We are.” 

 

But as she spoke to Malia and asked her to come over immediately, her mind kept drifting to that  ' we ' .  _We're doing this_ , Allison had said.  _We._ Not just Lydia. Maybe she still didn't entirely approve, but the two of them were no doubt in this together. 

 

The entire time as they waited for Malia, Allison paced back and forth in the room. Eventually Lydia grew tired and stressed of the pacing, and pulled her down onto the bed with her. She wasn't quite used to this closeness., but she brushed her hand over Allison's soothingly.

 

“It will be fine. And if it's not, we'll just tell Scott.” She said. “It will work out.” She promised. 

 

Allison nodded. 

“I know. I'm just nervous.” She shrugged. “I guess... I don't know her that well and what if she doesn't...” 

“She'll understand.” Lydia said. “In fact, I think if anyone will understand, even without explaining, it will be Malia.” 

Allison squeezed her hand.

“I'll be around but try to stay out of your hair.” She said. 

 

Lydia smiled, hesitantly leaning closer and kissing her once, softly. 

“Thanks for trusting me.” 

Allison smiled against her lips. 

“Now I should probably get some of my notes for Malia.” She said reluctantly, but she felt Allison pull away, urging her up with a gentle nudge. 

“I'm right here. You can do both.” She said with a short laugh. 

 

Lydia stood up and spun around.   
“I guess I can.” She grinned. 

 

She got the books ready in time for the ring of the doorbell. Her mother knew enough to just let Malia upstairs, and Lydia smiled from the armchair as the other girl entered her room with a knock. Malia looked around the room, a bit suspiciously, but then seemed to relax a little as she moved further inside.

  
“Hey.” Lydia said.   
“Hi.” Malia responded, taking a moment before she smiled.

 

Lydia stood up, gesturing to a pile of books.

“I wasn't sure what you wanted to do today. So I brought out a few that I took notes in last week.” She tried not to giggle at the annoyed face that Malia pulled as she said the word:

 

“Math.” 

“You want to do math?” Lydia said, already rummaging through her notes. 

 

“No.” Malia said, and Lydia stopped searching. She looked at the other girl, waiting for an explanation. “I want to do math the least, which is why I should do it.” Malia said, and this time she laughed a little herself. Lydia smiled.

 

“Did a wise person tell you that?” She teased, arching an eyebrow. Malia grinned at her. 

“Can't recall,” she said, with a mischievous glint in her eye clearly signalling that she no doubt remembered that Lydia had been the one to say it. 

 

“Watch it, I'm the one who explains things to you so they make sense, after all.” She said jokingly as she handed Malia a notebook. “Okay. As usual. Find me the things you find the hardest, and we'll start from there.” 

 

Studying with Malia was a nice break. Even when she wasn't in school, Lydia had insisted that Malia come over and go over this week's classes. It kept Lydia up to date, and luckily, Malia's worst subjects were the ones she excelled at. The fact that she was ahead of most of the class really helped; Lydia didn't need to have attended this week's classes to know what the teachers had been talking about.

 

Having done this for a while now, she had also learned when to stop. Malia grew restless too, like Lydia could do, but much quicker. Lydia would let her walk around as they talked sometimes, but it only helped to a certain extent. Once Malia started folding and unfolding her legs, Lydia knew it was time to wrap it up. As it were, she sat cross-legged on top of Lydia's bed scribbling over a few notes that she had been frowning over the moment before. Lydia cleared her throat.

 

“Malia.” 

“Yeah?” The other girl blinked at her from the bed. 

“I need to tell you something.” Lydia said, and Malia put her pen down. She didn't say anything, but Lydia had her full attention. She could tell. 

 

“I've been seeing Allison. Well... Allison's ghost.” She said it simply, because she knew that there was no point in bullshitting or tiptoeing around the subject with Malia. She could spot it from a mile away, and she didn't like it. 

 

“Okay.” Malia said. It surprised Lydia, but it was a good reaction in it's straightforwardness, one she had wanted. 

 

“I can bring her back.” Lydia continued. “And I want to do it.” 

 

This was the part where it got hard, where she wasn't sure of how Malia would react. She watched, a bit tense, as the other girl nodded very slowly. 

 

“Is it dangerous?” Malia asked. Lydia still felt the tension in her shoulders. 

“Might be. It's why I'm telling you.” She said. “Someone needs to know when I plan to do it. Someone needs to know if it doesn't go... according to plan.” 

 

“And why me?” Malia frowned a little as she cocked her head to the side. 

“I don't know. I just... I think I believed that you would understand.” Lydia glanced down at her hands, heard Malia shift on the bed and rustling some papers as she did. 

 

“Not entirely,” she said. “But I think I understand enough.” 

 

L ydia wanted to jump up and hug her, but kept herself grounded in the armchair for another moment. 

“You can't tell anyone unless you think something's happened.” Lydia told her. 

“Of course.” Malia said. “You've helped me. Even when I could tell you weren't well, you helped me. I want to help you too.” 

 

“But you'd still eat me if I was the only food available in a lonely and cold place?” Lydia finished with a little smile. 

“Yeah.” Malia was smiling back at her as she said it, and Lydia could tell that it was a real one, not taught, but genuinely felt. 


	6. Part V

The day she had planned to go through with it arrived faster than she had anticipated Her mother had finally deemed Lydia's healthy enough for her to leave the house overnight. Her and a few friends were going to stay at a spa downtown. And Lydia, who thought her mother deserved every spa visit in the world, had insisted she stay the night and pamper herself.

 

She wasn't sure how long she would be gone. There were only vague records of the physical time passed for banshees who had performed this before.

 

When her mother h ad left , Deaton set up a small monitoring device to be sure that her heartbeat s lowed, but never stopped . On top of that he had brought some cords, a few weird looking instruments and lastly, a book.  When Lydia studied it closer she saw that it was a bestselling novel and she flashed him a smile. 

 

“I might get bored.” Deaton offered, Lydia shrugged a little, still smiling. “Everything solved with Malia?” He asked, ignoring her amused look. 

 

“She'll come by tomorrow morning if I haven't called. If you're here, she will wait to check in again until later.” Lydia said and Deaton looked approving.

 

“I guess there's no time better than now, unless there's something you want to do before.” He said, nodding toward the bed. “The earlier we get you under, the earlier you can come back.” 

“No. I'd rather not have to explain all of this to my mom when she comes back tomorrow evening so we should probably get going.” 

 

She climbed onto the bed, shooting a glance at Allison, who followed her, one hand gripping hers tightly. Lydia wasn't sure who Allison was comforting, perhaps both of them at the same time.

 

Deaton brought out the small vial of liquid. It had a pretty ordinary color, light with a greyish-green tint. The effect of boiled down herbs and plants, Lydia knew. She looked at it.

 

“For some reason I imagined it would be a bit more dramatic.” Allison pointed out, and Lydia smiled a little. 

“It doesn't look very convincing, but I assure you, it is.” Deaton said. Lydia wasn't sure if it was Allison he was answering, or her smile. Could he see her? Could he sense her too? Maybe she could ask him if that later came around. 

 

Deaton held out the vial for her and Lydia took it gingerly.

 

“I want to tell you so many things, but let's leave it until we've gotten through this.” Allison said. 

Lydia met her eyes and squeezed her hand. Then she looked at Deaton and lay back against the propped up pillows on the bed. In a swift movement, she opened the vial. 

 

“Alright?” Deaton asked. Lydia bit her lip and nodded. It didn't taste like much at all, and neither did anything feel different after. 

“Ready.” She said, aware of the fact that Allison was watching her closely. 

 

“I'm going to let go of this room now.” She said. “I'll look for you. I'll call for you, I'll do whatever it takes.” She pressed a kiss to Lydia's forehead. And then, it was as if she faded from the edges inwards. 

“See you later.” Lydia whispered. And then she felt as if she had just slipped on something, the ground feeling as if it disappeared from under her. 

 

When she opened her eyes, she was in a corridor. Allison was somewhere near. She could feel the presence alone tugging at the empty space within her. She ran in the direction she felt like she was being pulled. She wasn't sure this was the right instinct, but still following an idea that she was being dragged toward some kind of link. Some kind of reason, like Allison had found herself being dragged out into the living world as a ghost.

 

She was just hoping that Allison was her connection in this place. That she could somehow anchor Lydia to her, the way Lydia had been doing with Allison's ghost.

 

The walls felt like they were built around something endless. This place wasn't real, but at first it felt nearly impossible to point out what about it that gave it away.

Only after a moment of running did she realize what at least one of the things was. She couldn't hear herself. No breathing, no footsteps, no heartbeats.

 

“Hello.” She tried softly, pleased to find that she could hear her own voice, although it sounded a bit odd; as if it was cut off right in front of her face. 

 

She ran through the corridor, stopping in surprise when that in turn opened up, not into a large room, but to a forest.

 

Allison had talked about this forest,  a bout its grey tree trunks and everlasting fog. When Lydia stepped into it, she understood what Allison had said about it being breathtaking. Because it really was. Despite this, she wasn't sure she would think so if it had been located in the living world. There was something slightly off and eerie about it, should she put it in a different setting. Lydia quickened her pace, as she felt the force tugging at her chest grow stronger. She walked between the trees, all the while looking around her for any trace of Allison. 

 

She jumped with surprise when the first spirit brushed against her. She knew what it was only because of the buzzing energy was still recognizable, despite feeling more solid in this world.

“Allison?” 

 

T here was no answer. The n another spirit followed the first , nearly walking fully into her this time. If she tried hard enough, she could see them moving past her, between the trees. A whole crowd of them. A huge crowd of them  was m illing about around her as if these woods were a marketplace in a movie. 

 

The spirits swarmed against her. Brushing against her like cold cloths, wispy fabrics and gusts of wind full of dry leaves. Too much, she thought. Somehow she must still work as an amplifier.

 

“Allison!” She yelled. If they gravitated toward her, then so should Allison. 

 

“Allison!” She yelled again. And when she did, she thought she heard a soft echo of her own name. But it came from a distance, and she pushed through the sensation of a crowd. Dodging back and forth wherever she found it possible, wherever she spotted a gap. She called out for Allison at intervals, making sure that she was moving closer and not further away. 

 

The crowd became more sparse, and Lydia thought that she was nearing the edge of it. And just as she felt as if she was going to be free of the crowd of ghosts, she ran straight into something else. The crowd was gone, and so was the forest. Instead she was standing in the middle of a room the size of a warehouse, everything a bright white: the lights, the walls and the floor.

 

“Allison?” She cried out, more hesitantly than before. She didn't like the fact that this place had suddenly started shifting. She wasn't sure how to handle it. Earlier, she had at least thought that the linearity of things could be trusted here. From what Allison had told her, this was not the usual way of things. 

 

That was when she realized: it was out of the ordinary. The place knew that she had come for Allison, and that was why it was shifting. It was out of place amongst the other needs of the spirits here. It didn't quite know what to do with her.

  
“Allison!” She called out again, louder this time. This time, Allison's response could be heard. Muffled but a lot louder than before.

“I'm here!” 

And then, a series of bangs against metal followed. Lydia spun around, looking for the source of the noise. 

 

It took her a full spin to notice it. A door at the far end of the room. The fact that she didn't spot it at once was probably because of the shifting again. So now, as she got ready to charge toward it, she made sure her eyes were kept locked on it. Then she ran.

 

As she did, she noticed that it felt as if the floor was turning under her feet, rather than her body turning without her noticing. But she kept her eyes on the door as it got closer, and closer, and closer.

 

“I'm right there!” Lydia called out to Allison, who had stopped banging on the door. 

“Lydia!” Her voice so close now. There was a slightly different tone, something about it feeling more distinct now than she had over the past few weeks. 

 

Finally Lydia reached the door, leaning her forearms against the metal, heaving breaths that she could feel in her chest although they didn't make a sound to her.

 

She pushed at the handle. It wouldn't move. She pushed it again but nothing happened. Briefly she wondered if she had been entirely wiped out by the running, so much that she didn't notice right now. But as she jumped up to put her full weight on the handle, it still wouldn't budge. It was as if it was bolted in an upright position.

 

“I can't get in!” She cried out, banging her fist once against the door in frustration.

“Hang on!” Allison replied. 

  
“No! Don't go! Don't leave!” Lydia  cried , but  recieved only silence in reply. 

She banged against the door, sure of the fact that Allison was right there, but yet she couldn't get through.

 

”Allison!” She screamed and screamed until her voice could bear no more. And then, for the first time in months, Lydia started crying. And she knew within her that this wasn't just happening in this strange in-between place, it was also happening a long way away in the safety of her own house. She wondered if Deaton had noticed yet, and what he would do when he did.

 

With weak hands she tried the handle one last time, and the door opened. It was as if the air was knocked out of her, and then came rushing with full, absolute force. In that moment she was certain she hadn't remembered how to breathe properly in a long time.

 

Allison waited in front of her, sat on her knees. When her best friend reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet and up against her chest, she felt entirely real, entirely whole and entirely flesh and blood and there.

 

”It's alright.” Allison whispered into Lydia's hair. And for once, Lydia believed those words. She met Allison's eyes, and she thought she should probably wait, that this was the wrong time, but she stood on tiptoes and she pressed her lips to Allison's. It felt real, and it felt good. 

 

“I'm here to take you home.” Lydia said weakly. Allison nodded. 

“I've been waiting.” 

 

Lydia could feel the nudge of reality pulling at some sort of a core in her body as if on cue. She hadn't been sure of how it would feel but now that it was there she recognized it. She clutched Allison closer, pulling the other girl to her, with her. She willed every inch of her power to cover Allison as well, stretching it out like a rope and fastening it.

 

“If we're not together when we come around, come and find me.” Lydia said, lips still close enough to brush the other girl's. 

 

“As the record shows, that is usually my first instinct.” Her tone was light, but she squeezed Lydia's hand tightly in a promise. Lydia squeezed it back, hard enough to feel bones under the muscle and skin. Everything went blurry, then white. 

And then, pink walls and sunlight. She felt drained, as if someone had just  s apped her of every speck of blood, every muscle, every bone and every emotion she had ever had. She drifted off to sleep despite trying to fight it, despite trying to flex her hand to make sure she was still holding on to something. 

 


	7. Epilogue

Sunlight still shone in through her windows when she woke up. It couldn't be the same sunlight as when she went under, she reasoned. But it still felt that way, despite her heavy body and non-cooperative limbs. She slowly tried to lift her hand to shield her eyes from the sun, but another shadow fell over her face and her heart leapt.

“Allison.” She croaked.

“Lydia.” The shadow said.

 

The relief hurt Lydia's chest. She wanted to speak again but she couldn't, just reached out for the other girl who sat down next to her on the bed and took her hands in her own. Allison smiled gently. She was wearing a yellow gingham shirt and black tights.

 “Are those my clothes?” Lydia asked.

“I didn't want to give your mother a bigger shock than she was already going to get.” Allison admitted.

 “Oh.” Lydia said. “You told her?” She would be more upset if she could, if she had the power. More worried about her mother, not only sleep-deprived and overworked, but also finding Lydia's dead best friend in her room one afternoon.

 “Deaton too.” Allison said. “You've been asleep for nearly 20 hours. I had to do something.” Allison said.

“And Malia?” Lydia asked.

“She's keeping it low until you're well enough so that we can tell them all together.” Then she smiled again, almost a bit shy. “I didn't want to have to leave you.”

 

They were quiet for a while, and Lydia's eyes adjusted properly to the daylight. She could feel her fingers enough to lace them with Allison's.

“Thank you.” She said at last, although it wasn't enough, and although Allison was shaking her head forcefully.

 “You know that's not how this conversation should go.” The dark-haired girl insisted. Lydia tried a smile, it felt weak but comfortable.

“You just thanked me enough by not leaving me.”

 “Lydia.” Allison's voice was low, but full of protest. “You pulled me away from death, things like that aren't written off with stealing your clothes and sitting by your bedside for a night. I owe you a lifetime.”

 Lydia tutted a little.

“You should at least take me on a date before we settle on that.” She said.

 

It took a moment, and then another before she saw the grin spreading wide across Allison's face. When it did, Lydia smiled wider too.

 “Yeah alright, I guess that's only sensible.” Allison said at last, leaning in carefully and brushing the tip of her nose against Lydia's. “However, it will probably be after we deal with... the other thing. Not sure being dead fares well with being seen in public.”

 “Who said anything about this date being in public” Lydia said, teasing. Allison laughed and when she did, her forehead bumped against Lydia's.

 “I was just trying to be honorable.” She said.

“Of course you were.” Lydia said. “Here I was thinking I could be the knight that saves you for once, but then you're back for a day and already you're trying to one up me again.” She teased, but Allison's eyes were dark and serious.

 “But you'll always be my knight.” She said, a tiny wrinkle between her brows.

“Really?” Lydia inquired.

 “You wanted to save me when I didn't even hope that anyone could.”

 

And before Lydia had the time to interrupt her with another grand statement, the brunette had pressed her lips against Lydia's in a tender kiss. Lydia let herself sink into it, enjoying every way that this kiss felt and tasted in ways their previous ones hadn't. The little noises that Allison's breath made, the way her eyelashes fluttered against Lydia's skin as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Her mouth hot and wet on Lydia's, tasting of mint and a honeycomb chapstick Lydia knew was hers. She closed her eyes as Allison pulled away just a little, just enough to speak although their lips were still brushing against the other's.

 

“How does this feel?” Allison whispered, thumb slowly moving back and forth over Lydia's cheekbone.

 “Just right.” She said, opening her eyes and knowing that saying that would never be a lie for as long as they were together. Every fragment of her aware of not only this fact, but aware of Allison, aware of the scent and presence of her. So solid right next to Lydia. So alive.


End file.
